


The Beast They Made of Me

by lit_chick08



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Dark, Multi, POV Female Character, Sexual Abuse, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lit_chick08/pseuds/lit_chick08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was hard, being the only daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beast They Made of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through 3x15 "All My Children"

There was another girl once, the one who came first, the one who died long before Rebekah was born. Only Finn remembered her, but, like their parents, he never spoke of her. Even her name - _Rachel_ \- was never spoken, as if simply invoking her name would bring back all the pain her death bought.

Rebekah liked to imagine life would have been different if Rachel survived. Maybe Mikael would have been kinder, Esther would have been happier, they never would have fled to the New World where Henrik died. 

But mostly Rebekah imagined that, if Rachel had lived, her brothers might never have turned to her.

* * *

She entered the world with Kol, arriving a few minutes after him, and Esther always told the story of how the quickest way to get them both to stop crying was to place them beside each other. 

“You'd curl around each other like you must have done in my womb,” Esther reminisced, stroking her palm over Rebekah's fair locks, ruffling the already darkening strands of Kol's hair, and Rebekah liked it, knowing she was never, ever alone.

Later, when everything was different, Rebekah wondered if that was her curse.

* * *

Finn was the oldest, and Rebekah thought he didn't like her much. Even when she and Kol were very small, Finn seemed to look at her as if she was something dirty, something _wrong_. Elijah would lift her up and carry her upon his shoulders, and Niklaus would let her play with his few toys without complaint, but Finn just glowered at her with Mikael's eyes and Mikael's judgments.

But Rebekah was never afraid of him. She never feared any of her brothers.

That was her first mistake.

* * *

Elijah was the most patient, the one most like Mother. He wasn't her favorite brother, but he was the one she relied upon the most, the one she sought out when she needed comforting. When Henrik was born and she was displaced as the baby of the family, only Elijah had any sympathy for her, letting her crawl up into his lap and bury her face in his shoulder.

“You will always be my baby sister,” Elijah promised, rocking gently back and forth, “and I swear I'll love you best.”

That was all Rebekah wanted: to be loved best, to be loved _more_ , to be everyone's beloved.

She should have been careful what she wished for.

* * *

Niklaus loved her the most, even more than Kol, and Rebekah loved him back just as ferociously. He needed her love more than the others; even as a child, Rebekah understood that. Even when they bickered, Nik eventually caved to her wants, murmuring apologies against her hair, making her swear she would not stop loving him.

They were easy promises to make because Nik was so damned easy to love.

She didn't know then it would change.

* * *

Kol was impulsive and she was ill-tempered, but when they were together, they raised every kind of hell. They didn't need words or plans; a half-second's meeting of the eyes explained everything, a wave of a hand provided whole conversations. Kol was the other half of her, body and soul, and Rebekah knew Kol felt the same.

They were seven when Rebekah understood they weren't really the same; Mikael pulled her out of Kol's bed and ordered her to remain in her own, said it wasn't proper for girls and boys to share beds when they were of a certain age. Before then, Rebekah did not fully comprehend what the differences between brothers and sisters were, but Kol sneaked into her room and explained the difference lied between their thighs.

“We're not the same, see?” he whispered, his breath hot with the covers over their heads, her nightshirt rucked up above her hips, his pants pushed low, showing her the parts their mother said you should only ever show to your husband or wife.

Rebekah thought it was stupid, how much power Mikael was giving to simple flesh.

She never had given her father enough credit.

* * *

Henrik was quiet and sweet, and sometimes Rebekah felt like he was as much her son as he was Esther's. They all felt that way, Henrik having been born so far after them, and even though she hated to just sit still, she didn't mind so much with Henrik. 

When he was still quite small, not even ten yet, he asked Rebekah to marry him, and she remembered laughing, squeezing him into a hug before pointing out they couldn't marry because a brother and sister could not wed.

“But if we could, I would,” Rebekah swore, peppering his face with kisses that made him giggle.

She thought Henrik would live a long, happy life.

Like with most things, Rebekah was wrong.

* * *

The first time Finn came into her room, Rebekah did not understand what was going on. She was barely two-and-twelve, and he was already grown, already serious faced and prone to silences. Rebekah remembered how she wanted to ask him what was happening, what he was doing, but there was something in his face which told her not to, to not make a sound as he pushed up her nightgown and did what he wanted.

It hurt.

With Finn, it would always hurt.

* * *

Elijah punched the first boy who ever kissed her. 

It was after Finn started coming to her room, and, while he would do any number of things to her, never did her eldest brother press his mouth to hers. John was one of Nik's good friends, and sometimes Rebekah played with him as well. While Nik chased Kol, Rebekah leaned forward and asked John if he wanted to kiss her. She could still remember the eagerness in his eyes as he nodded, and their lips were only pressed together for a few moments before Elijah was suddenly there, pulling John away and sinking his fist painfully into his stomach.

The action was thoroughly Elijah, protective and misguided, defending her against someone harmless while he shared laughter with the monster who hurt her every night, but Rebekah still loved him for it, loved the way he wanted to keep her safe.

Rebekah knew then that, if she ever told Elijah what Finn did to her, what Finn _made_ her do, he would kill Finn.

She didn't tell him, but the power she now held made it easier when Finn came.

* * *

Nik wouldn't look at her once she grew breasts. Suddenly he averted his eyes, turned his body when they embraced, and blushed if she smiled at him. At first she did not understand it, did not comprehend why the brother who always loved her so much now seemed to want to be anywhere but with her; and then she saw the way he behaved with Tatia Petrova, and Rebekah realized Nik was attracted to her.

“Do you think I'm pretty?” she asked one day as they collected berries for their mother.

Nik turned maroon but nodded shortly.

“Prettier than Tatia?”

When Nik said nothing, Rebekah burned with jealousy, stomping through the weeds and leaving Nik with the unpleasant task of gathering the berries she dropped. She vowed then and there she would hate Tatia Petrova for the rest of her life.

It was one of the few promises Rebekah kept.

* * *

Kol found out about what Finn did to her by accident. He swiped a sweet from Ayanna and wanted to share it with her, slipping into her room to find Finn forcing her mouth down upon him. Kol never said a word, flying at Finn like something possessed, his fist catching Finn hard in the jaw, sending him backwards while Rebekah scrambled backwards. She burned with shame, silent tears tracking down her face as Kol pummeled their big brother, but Finn did not lift his hands to defend himself, did not do anything but let Kol beat him. It was not until Rebekah made a noise, low and pitiful in her throat, that Kol stopped, wrapping his arms around her as Finn slunk from the room.

“I won't let him hurt you ever again,” Kol swore, and, for the first time, there was nothing mocking in his voice.

He came to her room every night for the next six moons, guarding her against a return which never came.

No matter what, Rebekah would love him forever for that.

* * *

Henrik's death killed a piece of her soul. She knew it sounded melodramatic to say so, but she knew no other way to describe it. They all felt Henrik's loss acutely, and she thought of Rachel, the big sister she never knew, and wondered if she would protect Henrik in the afterlife.

Mikael built the pyre and Esther dressed him in his finest clothing; as was tradition, they all put something on the pyre for Henrik to take with him. Rebekah did not put a sword or a toy like her brothers did; instead she crafted a wreath of greens and set it upon his head, a crown for a fallen prince, a present for the little boy who called her “Bex” when he could not pronounce her name, who reached for her with no other expectation but to love her.

Henrik was the best of them.

It was wrong he was the one to burn.

* * *

Finn refused to drink blood in the early days. Rebekah never tried to resist the urge, but Finn did, wasting away to nearly nothing before Mikael and Elijah intervened, holding him still while the other poured it down his throat. He fought hard, called what was done to them “an abomination,” and even though Rebekah hated Finn, she also wondered if he was right, if they were _wrong_ now.

Since the night Kol stopped him from his assaults upon her, Rebekah carefully avoided her eldest brother, but she sought him out that evening, finding him near the water's edge. Finn eyed her cautiously, and it made Rebekah puff with pride to know he was scared of her, scared of what _she_ could to _him_.

The urge to rend him limb from limb was strong, her emotion amplified since the turning, but instead she simply asked, “Do you truly think we're abominations?”

“We always were.” Finn turned to stare out across the water. “Now our outsides just match the insides.”

“I'm not a monster,” she objected.

Finn didn't answer.

It would take centuries before Rebekah began to consider if he was right all along.

* * *

Elijah never quite recovered from Tatia's death. He would disappear for hours, returning with a drawn face, every movement an effort, and one day Rebekah decided to follow him. She was not as strong as Nik or Elijah, but she was faster, _sneakier_. It was easy enough to evade Elijah's detection.

The tiny house was unfamiliar to Rebekah, but the little girl Elijah played with was not. She was barely knee-high with dark curls and darker eyes; she reached for Elijah without hesitation, giggling as he pressed kisses to her face and chased her about the yard. Tatia's daughter had her mother's look and her mother's smile, and, for the first time, Rebekah thought about how _scared_ Tatia must have been when Esther and Mikael killed her to make them vampires.

Elijah loved that little girl, and Rebekah was surprised at the depth of sorrow she felt with the realization none of them would be parents now.

Elijah would have been a wonderful father.

In some ways, Rebekah would always think of him as such.

* * *

Nik never recovered from Tatia's death either. But where Elijah was heartbroken, Nik became twisted with anger. Rebekah watched as her tender hearted brother became unrecognizable, and it began to scare her how dark Niklaus was becoming.

He began to feed viciously, literally ripping people apart, and Rebekah tried to talk him out of it, tried to help him temper his rage, but nothing worked. One night, Rebekah heard the shouts and screams in the woods, arriving to find Nik licking blood off of his hands, the bodies of John and his brothers surrounding him. She gasped, dropping to her knees, trying to hold her hand against John's mangled neck, but a few bubbles of blood escaped his mouth before he was gone.

“What are you doing?!” she screamed at Nik, pushing at his chest, knocking him off-balance with the force of her blow. “They were our friends!”

“We have no friends!” Nik shouted back, a wildness in his eyes. “Only each other!”

“I hate you!” Rebekah shrieked, beating at his chest with her fists, and Nik wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as he softly pleaded, “Please don't say that. Please don't, Bex. I'll be better.”

At the time, Rebekah believed him.

It was the first of many mistakes.

* * *

After Mikael murdered Esther, Kol came to her, pleaded with her to come with him. She thought of Elijah and Nik, the promise she made over her grave, and Rebekah shook her head.

“I can't...”

“You don't belong with them!” Kol growled, gripping her shoulders fiercely. “Don't stay with them, Bex. We'll go far away, some place they'll never find us.”

“Kol - “

“We were born together, we'll die together, remember?” Kol pressed, and Rebekah felt herself wavering as he took her hands in his own, their palms fitting together perfectly. Even when he drove her crazy, Kol was always a perfect fit, the other half of her, and she did not want to imagine a world where he was not at her side.

“Stay,” she implored, clinging to him like a lifeline. 

“Come,” he countered.

But Kol wouldn't stay and Rebekah wouldn't go.

How different everything could have been if she had.

* * *

Finn was daggered in the winter. Even after what Mikael did to Esther, he went with their father, giving Rebekah another reason to despise him. They were always running from Mikael, from Finn, but one evening Rebekah got drunk, so drunk she could hardly see straight, and somehow she ended up confessing all the things Finn used to make her do, all the times he held her down and forced his way inside of her. She never knew why she waited 100 years to tell someone, why she offered up the secret she held closest to her heart, the secret she made Kol solemnly swear to never tell a soul, but she did, and the rage upon Nik's and Elijah's faces terrified her.

Nik left then, and she did not know where he went or how he found him, but when Nik returned, he told her she would never have to worry about Finn ever again.

Nik was wrong, of course.

Finn haunted her dreams for the next 900 years.

* * *

Elijah never complained when she would climb into his head, tucking her legs up so they were pressed against his back, huddling beneath his blankets for warmth. When she was small, she used to do it, and Elijah would always laugh, flipping on his side and holding her tightly against his body, but he did not do that now. Now he kept his back to her, kept a coolly measured distance.

“Why won't you hold me?” she murmured one night when Elijah still gave her his back.

“Do you want to be held?” Elijah countered softly.

“Yes.”

Elijah dutifully turned, and Rebekah did as well, sighing as Elijah spooned her, his body forming to hers, his chin resting in the crook of her shoulder. Rebekah exhaled gratefully as Elijah's breath misted against her ear, and she felt him squeeze her more strongly than he once did.

“I miss Mother,” Rebekah confessed.

“I miss Tatia,” Elijah offered in reply.

Their sorrows were their secrets, ones which could never be shared with Nik.

So much couldn't be shared with Nik.

* * *

The older they grew, the more possessive Nik became of her. It was infuriating at times, the way he would treat her as if she was a small child, as if she did not have a brain of her own. He would have gowns made for her, tell her how to wear her hair, glower at men who would ask to partner her in a dance; there was no fun to be had when Nik was standing sentry.

But other times his possessiveness, the depth of his love was all which sustained her. For every argument they had over dress necklines and dance partners, there were flowers left upon her pillow, beautiful jewels draped around her neck, sweet kisses and gentle touches. Nik loved her absolutely, and it could be a heady thing.

There was no such thing as too much love.

At least, that's what she thought then.

* * *

The arrival of Katerina Petrova into their lives infuriated Rebekah. For the first time in 500 years, she left Nik and Elijah, calling them both pathetic before finding Kol in Italy. He smirked when she approached him in the marketplace, amusement dancing in his dark eyes, and, though it had been centuries since they last saw each other, it felt like no time at all when he drawled, “ _Sorella_.”

“ _Fratello_.”

Kol introduced her into high society, taking great pains to explain to everyone how Rebekah was his _gemelia_ , how all of her greatness came from the fact she had the honor of sharing a womb with him. Rebekah smacked him every time, but she liked it, the constant reminders of their shared beginnings. She loved the Italian men who sought to woo her, the beautiful ladies who complimented her on her golden hair, the way Kol not only laughed at her bad behavior but encouraged her to do more, to go further.

One night they were being hosted at a grand palazzo, the home of new friends, and there was a great marble tub in Rebekah's rooms. The servants filled it with steaming water, and Rebekah let them undress her before slipping into it, moaning at how wonderful it felt. Her eyes closed for a moment before she felt the presence of someone in the room; she jerked around to find Kol watching with the damned smirk on his lips, tugging his shirt over his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Joining you for a bath.” Kol pushed his pants down in one smooth motion, revealing dark hair and the part of him which made them different, and she blushed despite herself. “It will be like the old days.”

She opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out. Kol sank down so he was across from her, stretching his arms out along the rim of the tub, tilting his head back. From this angle, he looked like Finn, like Elijah; her twin's face always showed more of their features than the ones on Rebekah's face. But the ever present smile on his face made him so much more handsome than stony Finn or serious Elijah, made him even more handsome than Nik who did not look like any of their brothers.

“You're lucky,” Kol said after a moment.

“Why's that?”

“Because you get to have great tits forever.”

Rebekah kicked him beneath the water, her heel catching his thigh. “Shut up.”

“What, Nik and Elijah don't tell you you're beautiful?” Kol's eyes darkened with lust, and Rebekah hated the way her stomach tugged in response. “You are, you know. Every inch of you is absolute perfection.”

“You're just saying that because we're the same.”

Kol's grin was sexual and predatory as he rose up on his knees and inched towards her. “I am you,” he began.

“And you are me,” Rebekah finished, remembering the words they used to tell each other when they were small, shivering as Kol cupped the side of her face, drew her closer.

“I missed you, Bex,” he murmured, and then everything changed.

It didn't feel wrong with Kol.

That was what was most wrong of all.

* * *

Elijah left after Katerina. He did not even say goodbye.

Nik found her in Italy, pulled her away from Kol, threatened to dagger him if Rebekah tried to stay, so she went, weeping as Nik drug her from the city.

“Where's Elijah?” she whimpered somewhere outside Florence, and Nik struck her hard across the face, making her cheek explode in pain, startling her so badly it stole the breath in her lungs.

“You will never say his name in my presence ever again.”

Rebekah never did.

She hated Elijah for leaving her.

She hated herself for not stopping Elijah.

* * *

Nik never hit her again after that awful day in Italy, but Rebekah did not doubt his desperation, his instability. Sometimes she tried to make it better, tried to pacify and play the doting sister; other times she liked to bait him, get him angry, push him to the brink. Once he slammed her against a wall, pinning her in place with hands and hips, and Rebekah felt his arousal, hard and blatant between her thighs.

Nik didn't want to fight her; he wanted to _fuck_ her.

It surprised Rebekah that it took her so long to figure that out.

It didn't surprise he wanted it.

* * *

Kol came to her on what would have been their 900th birthday, swaggering into their Parisian apartment as if he had done so a hundred times before; Nik glowered from his place beside the fireplace where he was sketching, but Rebekah did not bother tempering her response, rushing to Kol and leaping into his arms as they laughed.

“Let's paint the town red, little sister,” Kol suggested, popping a bottle of champagne, swigging from the bottle and then tipping it past Rebekah's lips as well.

Nik despised everything about Kol's visit. He complained about the empty bottles of champagne and wine they left behind, groused about their comings-and-goings at all hours, and shouted over their indiscreet feedings, screaming about how they were going to draw Mikael's attentions, but Rebekah did not care, not when Kol was at her side again.

“How do you stand it?” Kol asked one evening as they left a party, carrying a bottle of champagne in one hand, Rebekah's heels in the other, as Rebekah balanced and danced upon the rim of a fountain in her stockings.

“Stand what?” she replied, kicking icy water at him.

“ _Niklaus_ ,” he spat as if their brother's name tasted foul on his tongue. “The orders, the nagging, the way he talks to you like you're a child. You know who he sounds like?”

“Mikael,” Rebekah answered easily, twirling on the point of her toe before Kol grabbed her hips, steadying her. He pushed his face into the flat of her stomach, and Rebekah trembled at the warmth of his mouth through the thin material of her dress.

Rebekah gasped as he pushed her skirts up over her hips, taking her slip with it; they were in public, anyone could see, but Kol did not care, so she did not either. His fingers hooked into her underwear, rolling them down with an unusual patience, and then she was bare from the waist down, Kol's dark head bending as if in supplication as he put his sharp tongue to better uses.

“You taste like home,” he informed her after her knees nearly gave out, and Rebekah did not respond, pushing him backwards onto a bench, ripping open his pants, and riding him right there in the park.

“You _feel_ like home,” she finally breathed, and then she was crying because all Rebekah wanted was to go home, to be home, to have a home again.

Kol was the closest thing to home she had anymore, the other half of her, the brother who drove her insane and understood her heart better than anyone.

So, of course, Nik put a dagger in his heart and then told Rebekah it was _her_ fault.

“And if you try to pull that dagger out,” Nik threatened, holding her down upon the carpet in the living room, his fingers biting into her chin, “I'll put one in _you_ and then I'll sink Kol's body to the bottom of the sea. Do you understand?”

Rebekah didn't understand.

Nik didn't care.

* * *

Nik liking Stefan was all which kept him from killing Stefan and daggering her. After ten years of feeling dead inside, the loss of Kol still acute, Stefan finally brought happiness back into her life, lightening the guilt which she carried everywhere. She loved Stefan and Stefan loved her, and, for the first time, Rebekah truly began to consider _escape_.

Her hopes must have shown on her face for, one night, as they waited at Gloria's for Stefan to arrive, Nik matter-of-factly announced, “You know I'll never let you go.”

Despair bloomed in the pit of her stomach, but Rebekah only nodded as if it mattered not at all. “I know, Nik.”

“Always and forever.”

And that was what hurt the most: she still did not regret that damned promise, the one Elijah broke, the one Finn and Kol refused to make, the one which tethered her to Nik for the rest of her unnatural life. 

“Always and forever,” she echoed, spotting Stefan as he entered the bar.

Every time Nik called Stefan “brother,” Rebekah wanted to scream, “You do not want to be his brother! You do not know the cost!”

Rebekah said nothing. 

Stefan was just going to have to save himself.

* * *

When she first woke up in her coffin, she opened the others, debated waking Finn, Elijah, and Kol. Together they might stand a chance against Nik.

But Rebekah never thought Nik would actually dagger her, and the idea of making him angry terrified her, so she let her brothers sleep.

And every time Nik smiled at her or told her what to do, Rebekah reminded herself of three handsome, withered faces and the emptiness of death.

Rebekah was not the hero of the story.

* * *

It did not surprise her that Elijah was the one to save them all, to wake them and unite them against Nik.

Elijah _was_ the hero of the story, always had been.

She was surprised at how calm she was at seeing Finn alive again, long-haired and unfamiliar with the world; he would not meet her eyes, silent and apologetic, and Rebekah found herself forgiving him. Kol kept looking at her with mischief in his eyes, raising his eyebrows and nudging her with his shoulder, and Rebekah could not resist whispering to him, “I am you.”

“You are me,” he returned, and it was an agreement, a promise, a reaffirmation that there was nothing which could break their bond.

Elijah kept her at arm's length, uncertain, and Rebekah did the same, especially once she saw the tenderness he seemed to harbor for Elena Gilbert, another cursed Petrova. She would not rest until Elena paid for her betrayal, and Rebekah knew Elijah would try to stop her.

No one was going to stop her, not anymore.

Let her brothers do whatever they wished to do.

Rebekah was done being their pawn.


End file.
